


Misunderstandings

by onestepatatime



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst alert, Gen, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-06-09 04:05:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6889255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onestepatatime/pseuds/onestepatatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo stays in Erebor because hobbits hibernate for the winter. This is made rather difficult by the fact that Bilbo has been on sparse rations, ill prepared for a long sleep. It is made dangerous by the fact that the dwarves consider Bilbo a traitor barely tolerated. It is made heartbreaking by the fact that Bilbo thinks that Thorin is hibernating to recover from his great wounds. He tolerates much to be able to join an awakened and healed king in the spring.</p>
<p>The epilogue is posted and this story is complete. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Prompts for everyone!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242676) by [Pirateking](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pirateking/pseuds/Pirateking). 



> Pirateking prompt #4: Hobbits Hibernate (with a twist). “Just want anything that deals with Bilbo hibernating and the dwarfs either supporting him or trying to stop him.”  
> I’ve read family and pairing versions of prompt fills. My head came up with an angst filled version.
> 
> I based hobbit preparation and physiology for hibernation on the black bear.
> 
> Direct quotes from The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien are in italics. Paraphrased quotes and story timelines taken from The Hobbit are found throughout the story.
> 
> Legal Disclaimer: All trademarks and copyrights are owned by their respective owners. I make no profit from this story.

November 19, 2941 TA

Erebor

_It was a terrible battle. The most dreadful in all Bilbo’s experiences, and the one which at the time he hated most – which is to say it was the one he was most proud of, and most fond of recalling long afterwards, although he was quite unimportant in it….A magic ring…is not a complete protection…but it does help in getting out of the way._

_When Bilbo came to himself, he was literally by himself. He was lying on the flat stones of Ravenhill, and no one was near._

“My head! My head!” Bilbo managed to sit up. He remembered the dwarves kneeling beside the fallen king, majestic even when he was laid so low, with the backdrop of the frozen falls. The rest had been a blank, as Bilbo had passed out a second time.

As he sat there wondering where everyone had went, Bilbo remembered his ring.  Perhaps he had put it back on? Surely his companions would not just leave him there. Would they? He had to admit that attending to a king who was a war hero took precedence over remembering an insignificant hobbit. It hurt Bilbo’s feelings just a bit until he remembered his last words with Thorin, as he slipped and slid across the ice to reach the fallen king.

_There indeed lay Thorin Oakenshield, wounded with many wounds...He looked up as Bilbo came beside him._

_“Fairwell, good thief,” he said. “I go now to the halls of waiting to sit beside my fathers, until the world is renewed.”_  

Thank the Green Lady that the dwarves had a place to rest in winter as well! New hope replaced despair as Bilbo took in Thorin’s wounds. Thorin would meet him again in spring. It would be a long wait, but he would see his friend hale and whole in the fresh sunshine of spring and the renewal of life that it brought. Bilbo had never seen such a literal renewal of life, but he gave thanks to the Lady even more fervently as he clutched at Thorin’s tunic.

_Since I leave now all gold and silver, and go where it is of little worth, I wish to part in friendship from you, and I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate.”_

_Bilbo knelt on one knee filled with sorrow._ He asked the Lady to forgive his moment of weakness. He would dearly miss his friend and worry about him. They had been through so much together, and to have Thorin’s friendship once again was almost too much for his tender hobbit heart to bear. He hardly knew the words to express his overwhelming feelings.

_“Farewell, King under the Mountain!” he said. “This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils – that has been more than any Baggins deserves.”_

_“No!” said Thorin. “There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”_

“Now the gold will provide all of us with food, and our company will provide the cheer and song all winter long.” Bilbo managed a bright smile. He suspected that most healthy male dwarves didn’t hibernate, and stayed awake to guard the healing and the sleeping dames and dwarflings born to them during their sleep.

 _“But sad or merry, I must leave it now.”_ Thorin’s face looked troubled a moment, then he regained his sad smile, eyes intent on Bilbo. “ _Farewell!”_

Bilbo wiped his eyes; Thorin was always so serious, so serious that he could not say goodnight for a season in a manner less dramatic. It was one of the things that made the grumpy old dwarf so endearing to the hobbit, or Bilbo was getting too sentimental in his middle age years.

He would think upon it further as he slept. This thought brought a frown; the hobbit was hardly in top form for his own hibernation. No matter; a man was hailing Bilbo, offering to carry the worn hobbit down to the camp of tents below.

\----


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf tries to reason with Bilbo. Bilbo is having none of it; he has a promise to keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm using the English calendar of months because the Tolkien months are very confusing for me, in addition to having more than one if you remember the Shire calendar. It ain't kosher Tolkien, but I want to know what I'm talking about.

November 19, 2941 TA

Dale

_The man was swift and surefooted. It was not long before Bilbo was set down before a tent in Dale; and there stood Gandalf, with his arm in a sling. Even the wizard had not escaped without a wound; and there were few unharmed in all the host._

For days and weeks afterward, Bilbo would recall the joy at seeing the wizard, and the wizard’s joy in seeing him. There would be little happiness experienced after the wizard departed for parts unknown.

_When Gandalf saw Bilbo, he was delighted. ”Baggins!” he exclaimed. “Well I never! Alive after all – I am glad! I began to wonder if even your luck would see you through! A terrible business, and it nearly was disastrous.”_

“Yes, thank goodness that the dwarves can take care of Thorin.” Bilbo would not let the misery of the camp wipe out his relief.

“Well, I… _But other news can wait._ Let us see to your wounds, Bilbo. _”_  Gandalf did not quite understand the hobbit’s upbeat demeanor. Of course the dwarves had taken the fallen king into the mountain for funeral preparations. Hopefully, the hobbit was just reeling from the emotional shock and the head wound was not serious.

\----

November 25, 2941 TA

Dale

“I must insist that you come with me, Bilbo Baggins!” Gandalf might still wear an arm sling, but he was prepared to toss the reluctant hobbit up on the pony waiting beside his horse.

“I cannot, Gandalf. I must find a place to rest by Midwinter at the latest.” Bilbo looked torn and very unhappy. Gandalf had not seen the hobbit smile once in the past days.

“Come with me to Beorn’s, he has invited us to spend the harshest part of winter in his sheltered lands. You will not find the resources here for your winter reserves, Bilbo. Let him fatten you up with warm bread dipped in honey and fresh milk from his cows. Let us toast Midwinter with his honeyed mead before you sleep with a full belly.”

Gandalf had been alarmed at Bilbo’s thin state when the hobbit had been examined by an elf. No dwarf healer would touch the hobbit, murmuring disapproval in Khuzdul. The wizard shamelessly appealed to the hobbit’s stomach. Bilbo should have gained a third more weight than he had that last April day in Bag End. Instead, the hobbit had lost at least that much.

“I will stay in Erebor for the winter, Gandalf. I will head home in the spring. It is sheltered enough for my needs.” _He was aching in his bones for the homeward journey. That, however was a little delayed._ Bilbo was very homesick, his tired Took side agreeing with his rational Baggins side that Beorn’s hospitality was just what he needed. He could not; Thorin was expecting to see his friend when they awoke in the spring. Bilbo would just have to prepare with the injured dwarves and join them in hibernation.

“At least accept the Woodland Realm’s invitation. They are not far from your friends.” Gandalf would hardly call the now cold and distant Company friends. Their reaction was mild compared to the utter disdain shown by the Iron Hills dwarves.

Elves were not aware of hobbit hibernation, but Thranduil knew that Bilbo wanted to stay until spring. He had urged Gandalf to make the hobbit accept an invitation to spend the winter in his court. Even the distant and aloof elf had been disturbed by the hobbit’s treatment. Thranduil had promised Gandalf that Bilbo would receive whatever he needed during his stay.

Bilbo shook his head, closing his eyes as his stomach grumbled. He could not chance it being a mild winter and being absent if Thorin recovered enough to wake early. The hobbit was not certain of the severity of winter in the east, but he would not chance his friend thinking himself abandoned by the hobbit.

“I will come back before you rest if I can.” Gandalf knew that winter in Erebor was harsh, making a visit unlikely. “Promise me that you will wait until Midwinter to sleep. Promise me that you will take that time to properly nourish yourself, Bilbo.”

“I will.” Bilbo smiled. The elves had made him drink a cup of Limpe each day he stayed in the healing tents, startled by his appearance. Though the rare drink was reserved for the most critically wounded of the elven injured, Bilbo’s propriety could not turn down the gift. Then the elf king had given him a small supply of lembas bread and the promise of more before he and his main army left to take their fallen home for burial.

“Do not hesitate to seek help from Dale or the Woodland Realm, Bilbo. Erebor is not a safe place for a small hobbit.” Gandalf gave a last warning.

“The Company dwarves are my friends.” Bilbo shook his head and waved as the wizard reluctantly departed alone. They were just worried about Thorin. They had also lost Kili and Fili in the battle. The hobbit would not think too harshly on the behavior of friends who had lost close companions. They would not abandon Bilbo. Would they?

\----


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain is not cruel, but he has more than enough problems as a new king of a recovering kingdom. He does not need a problem burglar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are the three prewritten chapters. I will have another up soon. I'd love any input on what you want to see in this story. The chapters are short, but I just wanted a fun fast paced story. I tried to write a new chapter of another story and instead ended up with three chapters here and two for another. I saw this prompt months ago and have always wanted to write a version, and here it flowed. Enjoy!

November 26, 2941 TA

Erebor, the King’s Chambers

“The wizard left without your hobbit?” Dain looked around at the freshly cleared out rooms once belonging to Thror himself. He sat at the old king’s desk, going over stacks of scrolls. Gandalf had stayed for Thorin’s burial and left within the hour of Dain’s coronation. Dain himself was hard at work mere hours after the small celebration that they had managed.

“He’s not our hobbit.” Dwalin growled as he leaned against the fireplace. The new head of Erebor’s honor guard was furious. None of the Company would be placed in charge of security, or anything else. He had been relegated to a honored position that had been made up an hour ago, and was powerless and useless.

“Bilbo simply wishes to leave in spring.” Balin wasn’t thrilled at not being on Dain’s new council, but at least the new king listened to him as spokesdwarf for the Company. Dain didn’t know them enough to trust them in key positions, but they could not be ignored.

“Half of my council wants to try this Bilbo Baggins for treason. Why should we not enforce your own leader’s banishment? He can stay in Dale for all I care.” Dain didn’t appreciate such a trivial matter taking up his time, but his council would rather discuss a hobbit instead of trade deals which would ensure a food supply this winter.

“Bilbo was with Thorin at his death. He claims that they parted in friendship.” Balin wished that he could send the hobbit away for his own safety, but would remain loyal to Thorin’s final wishes. If Bilbo was forgiven, then no one had the right to send him away before he was ready to leave.

“I wish we could just kill the little bugger.” Dain knew that he had even less patience than Thorin had, and he’d heard stories of how the burglar had grated on the dwarf.

“A life for a life is one of our oldest laws.” Dwalin forced himself to interject. “Bilbo saved Thorin from Azog, and all of us more than once.”

“I can’t have a traitor in my kingdom when it is still so unstable.” Dain didn’t like obligations, especially those inherited from others.

“We all hate the little bastard’s deeds, but he’s no liar. Thorin forgave him, lifting the banishment.” Dwalin resisted the urge to bash the mantle  with a fist. He would never forgive Bilbo for the pain that he had caused all of them, much less his king.

“We are all still recovering from our losses.” Balin spoke delicate words. “Simply state that you are honoring Thorin’s last wishes. That Bilbo will be leaving in the spring anyway. Without a fuss, everyone will soon focus on the challenge of winter soon enough.”

“What shall we do with this hobbit, then?” Dain had no use for idle hands.

“Bilbo has been helping Oin in the healing tents and Bombur with the cooks.” Balin didn’t mention that Bilbo could only work safely without problems arising unless a Company dwarf was nearby. They didn’t like a traitor near them, but they owed Bilbo too much to let him be hurt. The little fellow was only trying to be useful anyway, and he worked until he dropped. Any helping hands were needed until more dwarf settlers came.

“The hobbit may stay until the year anniversary of your acquaintance. Escort him out of this mountain on April 26, 2942 at sunrise. See that he has a pony, supplies, and an elven guide. Once Bilbo Baggins crosses the River Running bridge, any and all obligations that the line of Durin owes him is paid. No other debt will be honored in the future.” Dain declared.

“I’ll see to it personally.” Balin ignored Dwalin’s glare. He would honor his king’s last wishes. He also might join Bilbo on the trip back east come spring. Dain’s own secretary was writing up the decree, leaving the old dwarf feeling rather slighted. His father, Fundin, had been Thror’s advisor in these very rooms.

“Do that.” Dain looked down at a scroll on his desk as Balin took his leave. “And Balin.”

“Yes?” Balin forced a sincere look as he turned around.

“The hobbit gets no special treatment. No special circumstances. If any problems arise, I will not be lenient.”

“Understood.” Balin nodded and left.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain's reign is not going very well. The elves love Bilbo. The entire Company is getting madder and madder. Bilbo misses Thorin terribly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates. This story's muse went on strike when I moved into a new place without AC during a heat wave. Window box fans are awesome. After my idea constipated muse cooled off we spat out all these new chapters, so it will go a bit beyond the original idea. Enjoy! Would anyone like to see a hibernation series?

December 3, 2491 TA

Erebor, the Main Kitchens

“I’m sorry, Bilbo, but I’m not in charge of the kitchens anymore.” Bombur could only stare at the floor.  “King Dain’s personal staff have arrived. Moren has been his head chef for over a century, and he doesn’t trust you around the king’s food.”

“I understand, Bombur.” Bilbo’s little hand patted the much larger dwarf’s shoulder. “I only washed dishes anyway.”

“I’ve been ordered not to give you any more of the scraps with the arrival of more war hogs.” Bombur’s voice broke. Both knew how much Bilbo relied on the leftovers that he earned by washing dishes. Soldiers hated such tasks, but Moren had brought a full kitchen staff, with no interest in keeping on a hobbit.

Bilbo thought of his steadily decreasing supply of lembas bread. The arrival of more Iron Hills troops brought soldiers with little reason to be reasonable with elves. Aeglos, the leader of the elven contingent left in Erebor, was a hardened warrior who tolerated no threat to his troops. During a meeting to discuss the problem, Dain’s top general had lost his temper and told Aeglos what he could do with his troops. Despite Dain’s desperate efforts at reconciliation, Thranduil quickly recalled his elves, and any promise of food supplies went with them.

“Please come with us, Bilbo.” Aeglos, the frozen warrior, hard and sharp like his namesake, pleaded with a worried face. “We can no longer protect you here. These new dwarves see no reason to follow their king’s wish for harmony. They will hurt you, little one.”

“I have a promise to keep to a friend. I will come and visit in the spring.” Bilbo wore no smile as he accepted a few last loaves and supplies that could be spared. Thranduil had refused to allow him more, calling his promise a suicide wish, though Bilbo was welcome in the Woodland Realm with its bounty at any time.

Aeglos was not one to linger and argue. He had given Bilbo’s shoulder one last squeeze before mounting his horse and leading his troops out of Erebor. Bombur gave Bilbo’s shoulder such a squeeze before turning away.

“What will you do now, Bombur?” Bilbo knew that the dwarf’s dream had been to work in the kitchens of the legendary kingdom.

“Erebor is not quite what I had fancied.” All of the Company had been enraged when the Ur family had been labeled as simple peasants by Dain’s Council and ostracized by the noble class. “Bofur hasn't decided yet; the mines still fascinate him. Maybe he’ll find a place here. Bifur and I are going home to Belegost to open our own shops. I’ll have plenty of coin to run a kitchen my way.” Bombur’s sour face was not lost on Bilbo. Moren was a rather cruel dwarf.

“Bifur’s skills aren’t properly appreciated here anyway.” None of the few dwarflings that had come were allowed to buy from his stand with its wonderful toys. Those parents not put off by his appearance refused to buy from a dwarf who gave toys to the children of men for free, no matter that many families in Bard’s camp were barely surviving in makeshift cabins near their ruined town.

“Good luck.” Bilbo whispered to the retreating Bombur. It was useless to offer more for Bofur or Bifur. Neither wanted anything to do with Bilbo. The hobbit had seen them on several occasions as he ran errands around the newly occupied mountain. Bofur looked right past Bilbo as if he were a ghost, as Bifur turned away, unforgiven hurt evident on his face.

Bilbo quickly hid in the shadows as a patrol of two soldiers followed Bombur. Soldiers followed almost all of the Company these days. Dain called it a sign of respect. Dwalin called it outrageous and regularly sent such patrols back with his version of his compliments to Dain, broken noses and split lips added in for emphasis on the word thanks.

To return to his nest, Bilbo climbed down two levels through the air shafts after crossing three thoroughfares at a frantic dash. Barely managing to squeeze past fallen debris in an abandoned side airshaft, he collapsed onto his pile of old blankets and tapestries.

He had deemed it unwise to request a hibernation chamber among dwarves who hated him after meeting the new troops for the first time. Bilbo stumbled upon his own place when he tripped (fell after being pushed) down a flight of stairs (stairs that had sufficient railings, mind you). After landing on his back, winded but not really hurt, he had deemed it unwise to even inform the dwarves of his hibernation plans. It was clear that Dain was unlikely to end his regency any time soon.

“Good winter’s rest under the Green Lady’s protection, Thorin.” Bilbo finished a bit of a lembas loaf as he recited the old hibernation adage. “You will be a sight for more than one pair of sore eyes come this spring.”

\----


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's bad luck continues, but he does have supporters. Dain has even worse luck and the Company couldn't care less.

December 8, 2491 TA

Erebor, the Scribe’s Guild Hall

Bilbo hid in the shadows yet again after he climbed out of an air shaft and entered the hallway containing Balin’s office. Thorin’s esteemed advisor had been relegated to a tiny office in the scribes’ guild. At least the young, bored recruits that were supposed to guard the guild hall barely cared who came by. Nori especially enjoyed coercing them into games of dice when he came to see Ori.

Though Dain had made a simple announcement on his coronation day about the hobbit, his troops had already decided who Bilbo was. The new arrivals had gotten nothing but second hand accounts that grew in absurdity with each retelling. It had gotten so bad that the only work Bilbo could do was run errands for Balin. Oin could no longer use his help. The healers barred him from even entering the newly cleaned healing halls, though they had earlier been all too happy to order the hobbit around as he helped to clean those halls.

“I’m sorry, Bilbo. I don’t have any work for you today.” Balin had reluctantly come out of his office to speak to the hobbit. “Official” court scribes had arrived and taken over Balin’s cleaning and restoration projects in time to claim all of the credit with little of the work.

“Oin let me go last week. Now Bombur no longer works in the kitchens.” Bilbo looked at the floor as his fist crushed his empty card. With Dain’s policy against idle hands, every laborer not specifically assigned to a detail roster had to get a meal card signed by their supervisor each day.

“See Dwalin at the training grounds. He was just given a group of raw recruits to train for his honor guard. Perhaps he has something for you to do.” Balin tried a kind smile that didn’t even register as fear filled the hobbit.

“The training grounds.” Training grounds full of soldiers with lethal weapons, soldiers who absolutely hated one small hobbit with one small elven blade.

“Listen to me very carefully, Bilbo.” Balin looked around the hall carefully before pulling Bilbo in close and whispering. “Pack up whatever supplies you have left. Use whatever gift you have for being invisible, and leave Erebor today. Accept the Woodland Realm’s offer of sanctuary. In the spring I will be organizing a caravan of those wishing to return to Belegost for their loved ones. A hobbit such as yourself would not be an added burden to take with us. I would see you safely home to the Shire if Gandalf cannot.”

“Gandalf will be coming for Midwinter’s Day, but I will consider your offer. I do wish to return home. Why are you leaving if Thorin is going to take over the kingdom when he is well?” Bilbo’s confusion was less evident than Balin’s own.

“Poor lad.” Balin thought. It was a shame that the hobbit’s memory had apparently been damaged by his head injury. He had thought it wrong to bar Bilbo from the funerals and Dain’s coronation ceremony. It might have helped Bilbo to move on with his life and be more willing to leave. Balin had almost come to blows with his own brother when he had tried to explain his reasoning.

“Here is a sandwich from my lunch.” Balin pushed a wrapped package into Bilbo’s coat. “Go see Dwalin and tell him that I sent you. He will have something for you to do.”

Bilbo hurried away, once again in the shadows. He should return to his shelter to eat what he had and rest. Instead, he needed to procure a job that would last a few more weeks. Soldiers did get a generous meal allotment; facing his fear might be worth Bilbo’s time.

\----

“What do you mean, you cannot find the hobbit’s quarters?” Dain glared at the soldier who had returned from a summons empty handed. “You’ve been here since the battle, Grield. You’ve been all over Erebor in charge of several damage survey teams. You profess to know every member of the Company. Please explain yourself.”

“I know every _dwarven_ member of the Company. I’ll not give a traitor such honor.” Captain Grield puffed up with a bit too much pride.

“I wanted you to bring me that very hobbit, not regal me with your bar hopping adventures.” Dain’s words warned of his famous temper about to explode. Efficiency kept his temper at bay. Efficiency was why he used experienced soldiers as his pages and not raw recruits. Efficiency and hobbit were never used in the same sentence around Dain.

All of this had begun over a complaint about the hobbit’s rations. Several healers had seen Bilbo’s daily fare and considered it woefully inadequate, especially as he worked so tirelessly for them. Dain wasn’t about to be lenient, as he had stated earlier. But he had also closed the matter of the hobbit’s status. If Bilbo worked hard, then Dain would see that he received his fair share of rations. He considered himself a strict, yet fair ruler. It was totally unfair how everyone but Dain’s “efficient” men could find the furry footed headache.

\----


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see Dwalin's opinion of Dain's stellar policy making ability. Bilbo's prospects are looking up, if he cranes his head back long enough to pass out.

December 9, 2491 TA

Erebor, Lower Cavern Training Grounds

Dwalin stared in disbelief at the hobbit who had dared to venture out onto the training grounds. He couldn’t ignore the little traitor, for his squad had joined three others in standing frozen, silently watching the clearly frightened, but determined creature approach.

“I only need a bit of work until Midwinter.” Bilbo’s small voice echoed in the large cavern when Dwalin was forced to approach him.

“A bit of work, eh?” Dwalin had seen how hard Bilbo struggled to keep up with the cleanup crews. He had seen how the hobbit had done everything that the healers had demanded without complaint. He had caught Bilbo and kept him from falling more than once as the hobbit struggled to cross busy thoroughfares and climb crowded staircases while carrying messages for Balin.

“I learn quickly.” Bilbo exhaled slowly, but his gaze never faltered.

“I suppose you’ll be wanting a soldier’s ration as well.” Dwalin thought the day laborer’s fare unfairly stingy. No stranger would believe that Erebor was full of gold if they judged by the standard of that ration. Two fish, a small loaf of bread and a sack of cram were not enough to feed a hobbit, much less a family.

It was no wonder that many of the men that had been working in the mountain had left. Farmers had bartered future crops for meat from elven hunters. Fishermen pledged the bounty of their fish hauls to the Woodland Realm in return for materials to build new fishing boats. Citing the strain on the Iron Hill’s own food supply, Dain had refused to negotiate with Bard about increasing family shares.

It was seen as voluntary conservation of food; no one made the men leave. It had solved the problem of the newly arrived single miners looking for work. They hadn’t known the mines wouldn’t be stable for months or even years. Who had sent for them anyway? Dwalin saw it as a foolish plan that isolated Erebor from yet another ally. Erebor needed the fish that the men caught from boats built of wood traded for starlight gems. Dain had refused that request, of course. Erebor did not need miners only experienced in mining gold and gems that already filled the treasury.

“No. I’ll not be considered greedy with a long winter and a shortage of rations. I’m content with one signed day laborer’s meal card in exchange for a day’s honest work.”  So what if a recruit accidentally skewered him? Bilbo wouldn’t survive until spring without food anyway. It would definitely be a noteworthy death once the Shire heard of it. Hobbits loved irony. To survive riddling with a dragon just to be shish kabobbed by a beardling. Lovely.

“First rule of working for me is you work with soldiers, you get a soldier’s ration. You’ll be working with my squad so you’ll be eating with them. Hear me?”

“Absolutely.” Bilbo bobbed his head eagerly. The day laborers ate at a different meal hall than the soldiers. He wouldn’t have to worry about being shortchanged by the cooks yet again. Cooks brought meals to the soldiers’ tables where it was divided and served by the squad leader.

“Where’s your letter opener? Second rule is you’ll wear it every day.”

“Right here.” Bilbo unsheathed Sting and handed it to Dwalin handle first for inspection.

“See how even a peaceful hobbit remembers his gear, Rolan?” Dwalin tossed Sting to a blonde haired recruit who barely caught it. “Tell me about this sword.”

“It’s elvish.” Rolan held it away from himself with two fingers. Dwalin snatched Sting back with a roar.

“It’s the blade that stood between Thorin Oakenshield and Azog himself.” Dwalin bellowed as he tossed the sword to Bilbo. The hobbit easily caught it in one hand. Practicing with Fili had its perks, though the boy had a habit of pulling the worst pranks. Bilbo’s heart clenched at the memory. Fili’s swords would never flash in a mesmorizing dance ever again, sealed in a dark tomb.

“Sting is the blade that freed us from those bastard spiders in Mirkwood. Bilbo Baggins wields Sting. No one here is to bother or harass this hobbit. We have one season to make an actual honor guard out of you beardlings. I’ll not tolerate any distractions. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir. Dwalin, sir.” Rang through Dwalin’s squad. The gruff dwarf stared at the other three squad leaders until they had their recruits echoing the same sentiment.

“I don’t know what to say.” Bilbo was nearly speechless. He decided that he should have been that when Dwalin rounded on him.

“Listen, traitor.” Dwalin whispered as he dragged Bilbo a short distance away from the line of recruits. “I know that Balin sent you to me. He’s a sentimental old fool, but he is my brother, and I don’t want to put up with the torment that he can stir up. You see those boys over there?” Dwalin shoved Bilbo’s coat and therefore Bilbo in their general direction.

“Yes.” Bilbo squeaked more than spoke.

“I’ll give you a soldier’s rations until Midwinter as you requested, because I need someone with which to teach these clueless, spoiled children how to fight. I’ve been given useless younger sons for a useless honor guard, but I can’t afford to use them as my example. Lords and ladies get upset at their noble son’s bruises, not a hobbit’s. Understood?”

“Yes. Quite.” Bilbo was hanging by his coat now.

“I’ve also seen how you need to learn to fight if you insist on staying in this mountain. You’ll learn what I have to teach, eat a few good meals, and live to leave in spring. After Midwinter I never want to lay eyes upon you again, Halfling.” Dwalin’s expression, and his suffocating grip, spoke of nasty things he had planned if Bilbo did otherwise.

“It’s a deal.” Bilbo forced himself to hold out a hand even as he swung by his coat in Dwalin’s grip. The dwarf merely dropped him and turned to his recruits.

“All right, you clueless wonders. Pair up. Watch what I show the hobbit and mimic it. We’ll see how it goes from there. Let’s go.”

\----


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain is ready to execute his entire Council. Balin is laughing at them all.

December 19, 2491 TA

Erebor, the King’s Council

“Sire, we are ready to discuss the expansion of the miners living quarters.” Old councilor Moirn could be counted on to be prompt to every meeting, well informed, and be the first one to suggest the most useless topic to discuss.

“Only one mine will be open by spring, and it will need less than a quarter of the miners that we already can’t feed. Why discuss this topic now?” Dain held back an urge to assign Moirn to the job of personally recording every gold item in the glutted treasure hall.

“The miners can earn a higher wage by repairing the damaged housing. Many have families that they want to bring here. They would be getting a better wage and more housing will be available for those families.” Moirn made it sound so simple.

“Miners are not stone masons. Just as engineers are not councilors. No families until we can secure a steady food supply. Higher wages are worthless with no food to buy.” Dain turned to his top general, Hinel. “How are the negotiations going with the Woodland Realm?”

“You will not sign a peace accord without stipulations for foodstuffs trade this winter. The Elven King refuses to trade any food related items. Bard of Dale refuses to sign a peace accord until either of you sigs first.”

“Then you’ll be headed back to Thranduil’s kingdom tomorrow to continue negotiations, again.” Dain sigh and turned to a third councilor, Eginald. “How goes the search for the elusive hobbit?” Eginald had been the most vocal about putting Bilbo on trial for treason. Dain had given him the task of finding said hobbit, over a week ago.

“I’ve confirmed that this Bilbo Baggins was never given living quarters in Erebor, Dale, or Bard’s camp. He also has not gotten his meals at the day laborers’ dining hall in some time. He has not been seen since being discharged from the service of Balin, son of Fundin. I would say that the hobbit has left for the Woodland Realm for the winter.” Eginald looked smug.

“Did you ask Hinel for confirmation of this before this meeting? Dan put his chin in his hand and sigh. “Hinel, is Thranduil waving the Halfling in your face when you visit?” Silence followed. “I’ll take that as the hobbit is still in Erebor. Any suggestions? All of you did want to hang the little bugger. It would be hard to not look stupid if you had gone ahead with those plans to not even be able to find him. Now, where is he?”

“Has anyone asked Balin if he recommended the hobbit to a new employer?” Senile and half deaf Dorgin spoke. Dain missed the sharp mind of his father’s most trusted advisor. Mostly he still came to meetings because his wife didn’t want him underfoot at home, claiming that she had earned the right to use Dain as a glorified elder sitter.

“Someone handle this. Meeting adjourned.” Dain would use this unexpected free time to get in some time on the training grounds. He was too tempted to use Hinel’s head for target practice.

\----

“The hobbit was never assigned quarters?” Captain Grield was back on the job, questioning the old scribe in his dusty office full of dusty old scrolls. Grield sneezed for the tenth time before Balin answered. Did the old dwarf have to keep shaking out scrolls just now?

“I was not assigned to habitat logistics.” Balin shook out an old tapestry and smiled.

“The hobbit worked for you when you were assigned to habitat reclamation.” It was hard to read one’s notes while sneezing.

“Habitat reclamation is not habitat logistics. I’m not certain who is in charge of either lately.” Balin smiled an idiot’s smile.

“Did the hobbit ever work for you or not?” A sneezing fit commenced as Balin pulled out another tapestry and bashed it over his desk. A cloud of dust enveloped Grield.

“He was a mere day laborer who I used to run messages and do errands a few times. He wasn’t assigned to my duty roster, so I’ve no information on him.” Balin shrugged as Grield coughed. “May I ask why you have an interest in a day laborer? Surely King Dain has a well-qualified staff to tend to his every need. I also doubt the king has any interest in an old scribe who is charged with the inventory of Second Age grain harvests.” Balin actually spent his days planning a Juul feast to remember, with fresh meat and fruit bartered from the elves. His share of the treasure did include a nice necklace that several of the elven delegates had wanted. Paying masons to help with Dale’s rebuilding with his own gold hadn’t hurt in securing food for the fish fry either.

“King Dain summoned one Bilbo Baggins weeks ago. I guess it’s just a matter of principal by now.” Grield looked like he also wondered for the first time why all the fuss.

“I’m sorry. I’ve not seen or heard from the hobbit since I was reassigned weeks ago.” Balin pulled a scroll out from under a bookcase full of them. Dozens fell to the floor in a cloud of dust.

“Why are you going through grain reports?” One was used as a fan for the sneezing dwarf. “Can’t you retire at your age?”

“Should I ask you the same question? Why waste a soldier’s time looking for a day laborer who probably left just as dozens of others have over the past weeks?” Balin shot the captain a knowing glare. “Orders are orders.”

“Only five more years on my service contract. Just five more years.” Grield mumbled as he fled.

\----


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain finally figures out the old adage of if you want something done right the first time, you have to do it yourself. As he does this, he is beginning to clue in to the fact that he's been making some major blunders, and we thought Thorin was thick. Yeah, Gandalph was right.

December 20, 2491 TA

Erebor, Lower Cavern Training Grounds

Dain couldn’t believe his eyes. The day before he had heard rumors among the officers practicing in the Upper Cavern Training Grounds. It was where all of the noble class and high ranking officers trained. No use in having recruits see their leaders getting their own brains bashed out, right?

At this moment Dain was questioning the entire concept of dwarven hierarchy. His best and brightest couldn’t bother to ask their own soldiers for information. Was communication in Erebor so abysmal? As the king watched his son’s future honor guard training, he answered himself with a resounding yes.

“The hobbit isn’t half bad.” Dain had come in plain training leathers and joined the overseer of the cavern as four squads ran through drills.

“He’s improved, I’ll give him that. Captain Dwalin shows no one mercy. If the hobbit can do it, his squad has no excuse for failure.” The overseer, Captain Linel, had no idea that Dain was not just another officer looking on out of curiosity. Many had wondered how Dwalin would fare with his obvious pity assignment.

“It’s an interesting training tactic.” Dain thought it a stroke of pure genius. No dwarf worth his or her beard would let themselves be bested by a rookie hobbit. Pride would spur Dwalin’s formerly reluctant troops to best themselves and each other. As Dwalin called a halt to a drill, the recruits lined up in formation with a confidence and pride lacking in the other squads.

“You’re lucky to come today, sir. It’s the hobbit’s last day.” Linel turned to watch and ensure another squad put away their gear properly.”

“Oh? Why is the hobbit here of all places? I’d heard that he was a messenger or something.” Dain watched Bilbo take his place behind the formation before it was dismissed.

“He just showed up one day almost two weeks ago and asked for a job until Midwinter. He’s a day laborer, but Captain Dwalin insists that since he practices with a squad, he will eat with them.” The overseer shrugged, not even looking over. “It’s the Captain’s money, let him spend it how he wants to.” Everyone knew how Dwalin paid someone to provide his squad with more than basic rations. They got stew with fresh meat, vegetables, even dried fruit on occasion.

“The crown pays for rations, yes?” Obviously not everyone knew.

“Captain Dwalin calls rations a laughing joke. If he’s to train boys to be warriors, then they need to be fed enough food to grow properly into healthy adults. He pays for lots of niceties no one else is allowed to touch. Says they’re free to spend their own money on extra food if they want it so bad.”

“Unbelievable.” None of Dain’s dwarves had bothered to investigate other dining halls. Would asking those cooks if they had seen a hobbit be such a hardship? Were his advisors and staff so blind?

“Do you want me to summon the hobbit, sir? They say that he is quite a cheerful fellow once you get to know him.” Linel finally noticed Dain’s intent gaze.

“No. I’ve got what I came for. Let the squad eat in peace.”

“It’s your last chance, sir. Tomorrow the squads disband for the Juul holiday until January.

“Summon Captain Dwalin to the King’s Chambers when he gets off duty. I’ve a few questions for him.” Dain turned and left without looking at the startled overseer’s expression.

\----

“What do you want, Dain?” A freshly showered Dwalin in a formal uniform dropped all formality when the door to Thror’s office shut. Dain watched him from across a sea of scrolls on his desk.

“Why did you hide the hobbit? I wanted no favoritism shown to him.” Dain dropped any sign that he wasn’t about to lose his temper. Dwalin wasn’t fazed.

“He is a freelance day laborer. Plenty of them crawling around the mountain last I looked. He wanted a job for about ten days and I gave it to him. As I saw you up on the overseer’s ledge, I know that you saw Bilbo was shown no favoritism. I’d not have kept him on if he couldn’t keep up with the squad. I only have one season until your son and heir arrives, Dain. I promised to have this honor guard ready, so why are you questioning my tactics now?”

“Why is a day laborer eating with soldiers?” Dain saw that he had met his match in Durin temperament, reminding him that Dwalin was a cousin and a lord in his own right.

“I’ve told you what I think of your “generous” rations. Frankly, none of this is your business, Dain. If there is nothing of actual import here, I’m leaving.” Dwalin had no reservations about turning his back on a king.

“Today was his last day and he left after dinner. One part of our work agreement was that I never wanted to see the traitor ever again. Try looking for him at the Juul feast tomorrow night. Bilbo was asking if Gandalf was going to be there.” Dwalin slammed the door as he left. He had better things to do with his time.

Why would a wizard travel through winter storms to attend a poorly rationed feast? Dain had no idea.

\----


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for feasting and relaxation. Bilbo is tired of putting up with dwarven nonsense and decides on the ultimate in relaxation at home. 
> 
> Author's Note: I ran out of edited chapters to post. The hobbit's not dead, folks. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but my muse needs a breather because...errr...after six new chapters at once they passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Feast of Juul - The Feast of Juul was a pre-Christian festival observed in Scandinavia at the time of the December solstice. Fires were lit to symbolize the heat, light and life-giving properties of the returning sun. A Yule or Juul log was brought in and burned on the hearth in honor of the Scandinavian god Thor.”
> 
> Source: http://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/december-solstice-customs.html
> 
> Most fan stories have hobbits celebrating Yule and the dwarves celebrate Durin’s Day earlier in the season. Many of the dwarves names are directly from Norse literature, so these dwarves also have a midwinter celebration.

December 21, 2491 TA

Erebor, Bilbo’s nest

Bilbo woke before dawn from long habit, even though he’d not seen the sun for weeks. The lower caverns had been his haunting grounds and it was far too cold to go outside without a proper winter coat. Bilbo chuckled at the idea of a new coat as he adjusted  his blue coat more securely. No one had offered him better than the old clothes that Bard had given them so many months ago in Laketown. He was glad that Dwalin had let him use the soldier bathing rooms to wash at least one of his two sets of clothes. It was nice to go to sleep clean, if a little damp.

Bilbo took stock of his nest as he added yet another old, frayed tapestry from Balin to its many layers. Some layers even included hundreds of crumpled up scrolls. Balin had insisted that they trapped air and made excellent insulation. As the scrolls were supposedly centuries forgotten farm reports, Bilbo had happily crumpled away one whole evening.

The abandoned air shaft had been altered bit by bit by the patient hobbit. His nest was against an unmovable pile of rubble at the back which would keep anyone from coming from that direction. The ceiling itself was enlarged by the loss of the same rubble affording the hobbit plenty of head room in the small area. Now Bilbo had a rather cramped but decent hibernation chamber. It was dark, but he knew every nook and cranny by feel. He had even added wooden planks over flat rocks by one wall to make a neat pantry of food in case he woke early and needed to eat before going back to sleep.

No matter how Dwalin had tortured Bilbo, the dwarf was a blessing. Bilbo had used his newly honed skills at least twice while coming home from the training fields. The recruits, boys far too young to hold a weapon in his opinion, had gladly filched from the food table to “donate” to Bilbo’s cause. Bilbo’s pantry shelves were filled with sealed jars of dried fruit, beef jerky, nuts, dried fish, and cram in addition to two lembas bread loaves still wrapped in their magical leaves. Two large ceramic jars with lids held water on the other side of the nest.

Bilbo yawned as he finally listened to the urges of his instincts. He wouldn’t get up for the day. Though today’s food was free for everyone, and plentiful, everyone would be free of duties to roam. A sleepy hobbit was no match for a mountain full of soused and vengeful dwarves.

“Sorry if I miss you at tonight’s Juul log ceremony, Gandalf. I did wait until Midwinter and I did my best to eat properly.” Bilbo had burned up far more reserves than he would have liked these past days, but he had eaten better than he had in months. Three whole meals a day of a variety of foods, and as much as he wanted had made him feel much better about sleeping, though it was far from enough to even consider not hibernating.

Bilbo carefully pulled large rock free in the rubble of the airshaft. His front entrance filled with a slide of unstable rocks that secured that entrance as well. It would take Bilbo a few hours to move all of those rocks come spring, but the rubble would give him plenty of time to be prepared for intruders if needed.

“May we both have a good winter’s rest under the Green Lady’s protection, Thorin.” Bilbo recited the homage as he had every day for the dwarf. He settled down in the perfect layer of the nest, deep under layers to ward off the mountain chill, but resting upon enough layers to make the shaft floor a soft bed. He curled up in the familiar fetal position with his arms around his legs for warmth and the sheathed Sting pressed against his side.

\----

As the day progressed dwarves ate and drank to their hearts content. Songs were sung offering hopes of a mild winter and an early spring lulled Bilbo’s body and muscles into relaxing fully for the first time in many months. Toasts of good cheer rang out as his heart and lungs slowed with one last deep breath. Ballads composed by scribes echoed across the mountain, immortalizing those who had died fighting so valiantly. The echoes carried through air shafts to his still sharp ears. One particulary talented scribe’s tale made a soft whimper escape the nest.

“There you are, my Burglar.” The so familiar voice soothed the hurt in Bilbo’s chest as he drank in the sight of the tall dwarf beside him. “I’ve been waiting for you. It’s almost time to light the Juul log. Come, a grand feast has been prepared.”

“And here I thought I was going to sleep early.” Bilbo smiled as Thorin chuckled and took the hobbit’s small hand in his large, calloused ones.

“One is always right on time here, Bilbo. Come, we have much to discuss.”

“As Kili and Fili wait in hiding to pounce on me?”

“Of course.”

\----


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain finds no joy in the holiday season or having to wear Thorin's crown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to post both chapters, but my mind drowned in trying to add facts to a plot. This one was done, so I posted it to have something to show for all of the effort. Dain took over a chapter. *Shrugs* and plods on with half finished ch 11.

December 22, 2491

Erebor, Greater Banquet Hall

Dain would never admit it, but the Juul festival was normally his favorite out of all the holidays. Ever since he was a small boy he would get to the hall early to get a good view of the ceremonies. He loved to watch the merrily burning log, imagining that the sparks flying off as it was stirred up were omens of good fortune.

This year was different; this year Dain was a king. In all regard, Dain should rank this as one of the best in his life. He arrived last, yet got the best seat. Somehow the feast was well beyond their meager rations’ capability; the last supply train with their traditional food was delayed due to several blizzards. The main courses had fish instead of venison, though there were a few of those at the lords’ tables. The ceremony had been memorable, with his most decorated soldiers decked in Ereborean finery as they laid the log and chanted the traditional thanks for the bounties that the sun provided. Dain should be happy; Dain felt sick to his stomach throughout the night.

Making a new crown was a low priority at the moment. Dain hated wearing the crown that belonged to a dead king. He hated that his cousin and his kin rested in cold stone far below the banquet hall. He hated that most of the night’s ballads were commissioned to commemorate the fallen of the recent battle. Juul feasts were meant to have light hearted ballads summarizing the more humorous, the more thankful events of the year. The sense of loss that each ballad left in him was only matched by the sadness Dain felt when his lords griped over eating fish stews like men and dried fruit enhanced dishes like elves. Dain had enough men and elves angry at his keeping to the dwarven tradition of no one but dwarves attending such a sacred feast.

With a heavy heart, Dain let his court scribe sing the words of the closing ballad as the remains of the Juul log were secured in a golden box. It would be kept and used to start the next year’s fire. The ashes had been carefully collected and would be scattered on the farmers’ fields in spring as they prayed for a much needed bounty. No one spoke of the bad omen of not having a prior year’s log remains to bless the fire. Dain was all too well aware of the promised bad luck as he looked at several conspicuously empty seats at the lords’ tables.

All of Thorin’s Company had been invited to the feast. Dain had even personally entreated several to participate in the log ceremony, a great honor which all had politely turned down. He had only seen Dwalin, Gloin, Oin, and Bofur the entire evening. Dwalin was forced to sit with Dain’s generals. Gloin was a treasury bank guild member and had to sit at the highest lords’ table. Oin was there out of obligation to his brother, benefiting from being half deaf as Gloin talked loudly for hours about his family. He went on in great detail about how he was leaving with Oin to rejoin them as soon as the weather allowed. In all the hours of dialogue, Dain hadn’t heard one word of the dwarf’s return plans. Bofur had surprisingly risen in the newly formed miners’ guild ranks. He had shown a knack for bringing organization to the chaos that the influx of unwanted miners had brought.

“Moirn, where did most of the Company spend the night?” Dain caught his councilor as he headed to his office though this was to be a holiday.

“The Lower Banquet Hall with the men and the elven delegates.” Moirn seemed surprised that Dain would care. There was no Juul log there, but there was food and drink fit for day laborers’ rations. “Lord Balin organized it. Most of the others joined him there.”

“Lord Balin.” Dwalin snorted as he passed them in leaving. “My brother was sent to the scribes’ inner guild offices to inventory grain harvests from the second age. Lord indeed.”

Moirn quickly disappeared with excuses of seeing his family before Dain and his temper could turn on him. The eldest son of the Lord Fundin, head advisor to Thror himself, tossed into the bowels of the guild to be forgotten? That alone was an unforgivable slight to the family’s honor. Adding in the fact that this was Erebor, and that Balin was a member of Thorin’s Company, Dain was livid as he entered his office.

“Well, I see that you’ve managed to muck things up.” None other than Gandalf the Grey sat in a chair by the fire. “As winter is only half over and over half of Thorin's Company want to leave come spring, I will gladly collect my hobbit now and be on my way. Please send for him.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crap! Gandalf is back and still no hobbit. Balin enlists Bofur's help in finding Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dates are out of order, but the events are posed in a way to tell the story properly.

December 22, 2491 TA

Erebor, the King’s Chambers

_“Well, I see that you’ve managed to muck things up.” None other than Gandalf the Grey sat in a chair by the fire. “As winter is only half over and over half of the Company want to leave come spring, I will gladly collect my hobbit now and be on my way. Please send for him.”_

Dain stood thunderstruck. How had the wizard managed to enter the mountain _and_ his chambers without someone noticing? The guards outside of his door seemed just as surprised when they looked inside upon hearing the wizard. “The hobbit?”

“Yes, yes. Didn’t Bilbo mention to you that I would be coming for Midwinter? I know that the weather made me a day late, but your feast was off limits to non-dwarves anyway; so no harm done. Please send for Bilbo and we will not detain your celebrations any longer.” Dain didn’t miss how Gandalf stressed the word harm even as he placidly blew out smoke rings that turned into butterflies.

“Never would I bar one of the Valar’s Istari, Tharkun.” Dain and his guards bowed low in apology.

“No harm done.” Gandalf just shook his head and turned to a page that had entered with a scroll. “Please send for Bilbo Baggins. Tell him to bring all of his things. There is a small break in the weather and the Elven King is expecting our arrival.”

“Who?” The young dwarf stared in confusion.

“Bil…” Gandalf stopped and turned to Dain. “Dain, what have you done with my hobbit?”

\----

December 27, 2491 TA

Erebor, the Miner’s Guild

“I’ve not seen Bilbo since before the Battle. He wasn’t at the coronation and I barely got Bifur back from the funeral after he started ranting.” Bofur had broken his arm during the Battle along with grief and Bifur’s wild mood swings to boot. He had thrown himself into the reorganization of Erebor’s miner’s guild to deal with the loss as well as get away from the nobles that seemed to now infest the mountain.

A frowning Balin sat in a proffered chair by Bofur’s desk. Until his arm healed, Bofur was stuck in the main guild offices. It was still a better place than Dain’s council chamber, worn furniture and all.

“Gandalf has come back for our hobbit.  Dain thinks that I can find him.” Balin wouldn’t mention the aftermath of Dain’s temper. Balin had been dragged in by terrified looking soldiers who hadn’t stayed around as the older dwarf was sacrificed to his next outburst.

_“You are my newest council member, son of Fundin. Your first task is to find that hobbit. Gandalf will be back for him.” Dain had tossed the crown on his head and stormed out to scream at some more dwarves before Balin could say a single word._

“I’d have thought that Bilbo would’ve left with Gandalf after the Battle.”  Bofur got up as two young apprentices staggered in with what looked like a heavy tube. He directed them to unroll it on a large worktable, revealing a large, intricate map.

“Here’s the section of airshafts by the staircases leading from the recruits’ training grounds. What are we looking for?” Bofur was amazed that the map had survived nearly two centuries of neglect. It was faded, but the ink was still legible on the tough leather hide.

“One of Dwalin’s recruits remembered Bilbo disappearing about halfway up these stairs. The best we can figure, Bilbo is hibernating in one of these shafts.” Balin set himself for the outburst. It had taken an hour for Dwalin to stop laughing, and a visit from Dain to agree to help Balin.

“I don’t know if he is desperate or stupid.” Bofur didn’t look up from the map. “He mentioned bits and pieces about sleeping through the winter. An airshaft is not a good place at all.”

“Not at all.” Bofur unrolled a scroll from his desk and tapped a few places on the map. “Damage survey crews have documented several shafts blocked due to collapses. No one knows the extent of the damage yet.”

“The structural engineers have begun inspecting every airshaft in the great forge system. Dain wants the first relit as soon its airshafts are repaired. I predict a team will be in the area of the staircase in less than three weeks.” Balin had interviewed every soldier who even been near the training grounds when Bilbo was there.

Bofur had a look of horror on his face. He hadn’t been deaf to the talk of the traitor hobbit, nor of what many said openly what they would do if they got their hands on him. “They’ll murder the hobbit in his sleep! If they don’t kill him, the fumes from the forges will if he is in an exhaust shaft.”

“We have less than three weeks, Bofur.” Balin’s face was just as grim. He hadn’t realized the danger Bilbo was in when giving him items to make his bed comfortable. Balin had thought that Bilbo wanted a comfy place to sleep; he’d had no idea the hobbit would be asleep for _months_.

“I can assign an exploratory team of a few of the lads that I trust.” Bofur was a miner who had traveled extensively and knew quite a few of the other miners. “But there are miles of shafts on this map alone. He might also have taken a path off of this route to another section of the mountain.”

“Dwalin’s recruits are at your disposal.” Balin’s finger traced the exhaust shafts nearest the staircase. “We will start with the exhaust airshafts associated with the forge to be relit first. We’ll just have to prioritize.”

“Soldiers are not miners. As I said, some of those shafts are damaged and near impassable. The engineers’ teams will be all over the place as well.”

“Recruits are strong from Dwalin’s training regiment, yet still smaller sized than a grown adult. Each of your trusted friends will lead a team of them. I’ll deal with the engineers. We have no choice, Bofur.” Dain insisted on Balin personally giving him updates twice a day. Whatever Gandalf had said to the king, Dain was obsessed with finding Bilbo.

\----


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dain learns more about hobbit hibernation. A few members of Thorin's Company have been loyal to Bilbo to the end, and beyond. Time to wake up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the website for the five bear hibernation steps if anyone is interested. I was going to have Dain and Gandalf discuss this in more detail, but it's a short story.
> 
> http://www.bear.org/website/bear-pages/black-bear/hibernation/191-5-stages-of-activity-and-hibernation.html

December 23, 2491 TA

Erebor, the King’s Chambers

Gandalf sat in his chair by the fire, watching Dain come in to collapse in a matching chair.

“We can’t find your hobbit. He is holed up until spring.”

“That cannot be allowed.” Gandalf pulled a sheaf of paper out of a pocket. “I rushed back from Rivendell to prevent that.”

“You yourself left the hobbit here.” Dain was beyond disgusted. Only the desire to remain a dwarf and not a mule or worse held his temper in check.

“Lord Elrond was most insightful about hobbit hibernation. I was merely checking on Bilbo, not wanting to disturb his rest. I trusted you to take care of Thorin’s burglar, Dain. Now he and Erebor may both be in danger.”

“Hobbit hibernation actually enriches their soil?” Dain couldn’t believe what he was reading. It was unbelievable that hobbits slept like bears; the fact that maker also blessed the land that had provided for them during that sleep seemed like a fairy tale.

“Lord Elrond feels that Bilbo was inadequately prepared in step five.” Gandalf gave Dain another sheet listing the five steps of hibernation.

“So we wake the hobbit and care for him until spring when you will take him home.” Dain scanned the list, and then moved on to another sheet. “Sounds fair. I see Elrond has made a hobbit care sheet.” One paper had a lengthy list of hard to acquire food such as fresh strawberries.

“Bilbo will most likely be very ill from body waste, as his kidneys cannot filter it properly.”

“Hobbit Hibernation Stage 3, spring to late summer: Denied a proper range and quantity of food during this stage, hobbits cannot hibernate properly. Dehydration sets in as they begin to use muscle for energy. Toxic wastes build up in the blood, eventually leading to… What is Uremia, Gandalf?” Dain was a dwarven king, not a fancy elf.

“Give your healers these instructions for Bilbo’s care. In short, the last page lists all the ills that will befall Erebor if Bilbo Baggins dies. I will be back when the weather clears again in a month or so.” Gandalf got up and marched out, leaving a gap jawed king to read over the dangers to his new kingdom.

\----

January 16, 2492 TA

Erebor, Bilbo’s nest

 _“You need to wake up, Bilbo. It’s not safe; the engineers are inspecting all of the airshafts.”_ Fili wore a sorrowful expression worn by all three dwarves.

 _“It’s not fair.”_ Kili’s voice echoed as it faded. ” _How could the Company just abandon him like that?”_

Bilbo’s heart began a more demanding beat; muscles began spasmodic twitches as limbs began receiving a larger share of circulated oxygen.

 _“Your airshaft isn’t stable, Bilbo. Get up.”_ Fili’s voice commanded again, ringing with authority even as it faded.

“Ahhh!” Bilbo took in a loud, deep breath and let it out. His stunned body lay a moment, disoriented in the dark. No hibernating family member was ever left to wake in the dark. A dedicated group of volunteers who had stayed awake for the cold season checked each sleeping family every day. They brought a lit lamp to the hibernation den starting in March, helping to rouse those who woke alone.

 _“I will never be far, Bilbo. Your task is difficult, but you are not alone.”_ The feeling of Thorin pressing his forehead to Bilbo’s stayed even after the disorientation cleared.

“Lamp.” The word was more of a dry croak as Bilbo’s brain failed to think of more words to say. Soon his shaking hands found the required items and a crude lamp was shining a weak light on his small abode. He got out of his nest just to fall to his knees before dunking his head into one of the water jars.

“Oh, by the Green Lady.” Bilbo felt dizzy and weak as he barely managed to drink water cupped in his hands. Feeling slightly refreshed, if dripping wet, he dragged himself over to his stores and began to slowly eat. Experience had taught him to never eat fast after waking.

The jerky and nuts were found to be rather tough to eat; his mouth was dry no matter how much water he drank. Bilbo contented himself with part of a lembas bread loaf and the rather chewy dried fruit. It was when he was full, leaning back against the large stones of the collapsed tunnel that Bilbo heard the faint tapping sound.

He froze, all thought of finishing off the lembas loaf gone. An ear pressed to the stone picked up more clanks of steel against rock. The sound of a large rock being dragged and faint voices got him moving. Bilbo didn’t know how much of the airshaft was full of debris, but he didn’t hesitate as he grabbed a bag and stuffed it full of food. He was thankful that the workers had started on that side of the airshaft; they would have made quick work of the little debris pile that he had walled himself in with.

Taking stock of the little den, Bilbo grimaced and pulled back his hand. Not only were his hands swollen, making putting on his coat a chore, but a sharp edge somewhere in the half lit den had cut a gash in it. Using a few dwarven curses, Bilbo quickly wrapped the hand with strips of an old blanket in his bedding. He cursed again as he bumped the lamp. It fell into his nest, a nest full of paper, tapestries and tattered blankets.

“No!” Bilbo screamed as the spilled lamp oil helped the nest to erupt in flames. He barely jumped back in time, his foot hair singed off.

 _“Bilbo!”_ The hobbit felt strong hands half push, half drag him up the shaft. Thankfully, his entrance was upwind the fire. Then he saw the black smoke filling the den.

 _“Dig!”_ The order had Bilbo scrambling over his little landslide. He frantically began pulling stones away, but smoke blinded him and made him cough long before the hole was big enough. Bilbo let out a scream and reached for another rock before the blackness took him.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've no idea why I fried the hobbit. Sorry.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once he hears how Bilbo is in danger by hibernating, Bofur doesn't stop as he looks for the hobbit.

January 14, 2492 TA

Erebor, the Miner’s Guild

“I don’t care if Dwalin can’t help us anymore. I’ll go out myself.” Bofur poured over the map yet again with Bifur.

 _You were just released by the healers._ Bifur wasn’t happy about that idea.

“I’m taking a few miners to Section 3-A. It is one of the remaining damaged airshafts. Tomorrow we’ll go to Section 17-G. I’ll not abandon Bilbo again.” Bofur called to a waiting group of miners carrying pick axes and mattocks.

 _Wait for me!_ Bifur shook his head but hefted a pick axe. Weeks of searching had proved fruitless; he could only follow to keep his cousin in one piece.

\----

January 16, 2492 TA

“Map 347, not Map 374.” Bofur glared at the two apprentices as he sent them back for what he had asked for.

“What are you looking for today?” Balin wore the same expressionless mask he did every morning that he came in to check on progress.

“Put it over here!” Bofur unrolled the new map, face scrunched up as he looked closely.

“Bofur?” Bifur had shared his worries with Balin. Bofur had not stopped organizing search parties or pouring over maps for weeks. Now released from his arm sling, he had not stopped wandering tunnels and shafts for the past two days.

“There are several shafts from a prior system, before the forges that we have now were built. They were incorporated into the newer shaft system, but no one bothered to put them on the new schematics.” Bofur waved at the nearly illegible map. It looked to be older than Thror. “If they were damaged, the team will eventually find them, but we still have to worry about exhaust.”

“Why don’t you let Minos lead this expedition? You need a hot meal and some sleep.” Balin tried even knowing Bifur had failed. “You’ll do Bilbo no good if you get hurt in a damaged shaft.”

“You’re right.” Bofur wiped a hand over his exhausted face. “I just have weird dreams, dreams like battle nightmares, but more coherent. I keep seeing Thorin lying there with Bilbo by his side. He holds the hobbit and begs me help Bilbo. One more trip, then I’ll go home. Bombur’s been cooking nonstop, so I’ll eat and get some rest.”

“Sound advice, I agree.” Balin didn’t mention Bifur’s plan to whack Bofur over the head and drag him home if he refused yet again.

“Minos, we’re headed to Section 1-E, Airshaft 5. No, it’s not on your map. Let’s go.” Bofur hefted his mattock once more and wearily followed the others out.

\----

“I say I’m fine, and I mean it.” Bofur managed to bark out in a hoarse voice.

“He has all of the symptoms: hoarse voice, trouble breathing, bad coughing spell or two and he’s not right in the head if he thinks he’s fine, so add confusion.” Minos would have glared at Bofur if he didn’t begin to cough himself.

“Bofur, your nose and throat are coated in soot. Your lips are blue; sit down!” Oin roared as two of his apprentices sat on his patient’s legs. “I’d tie you up if you could lie down.”

“What a mess.” Oin sigh as he looked around the triage room of the healer halls. Four dwarves were coughing; they had stayed outside of the airshaft. Bofur was barely managing to breathe, much less cough.

“Let’s have a look at those eyes, lad.” Oin took in the red, irritated eyes and knew he had his work cut out for him when Minos and Bofur passed out.

\----

It had been a small tunnel, barely fitting one dwarf inside. Bofur had known it was the perfect size for a hobbit that didn’t want followed. He had gone in with a rope tied to his feet just as he heard a familiar voice scream. The smell of smoke had him racing down the shaft, and then sliding; it was a steep turn down.

Bofur lost his glowbasket along the way, but the blocked shaft was lit from inside. He saw a bandaged hand lying on top of the blockage just before he was enveloped in smoke.

“Pull me out!” Bofur lunged for the hand and hung on, pushing what rocks he could out of the way. The rest was a blurry nightmare of hanging on for dear life as he was slid on his stomach on a nightmare ride; his friends frantically heaving once they smelled the smoke. Both bodies slid out and onto the floor with a thud.

“Found him.” Bofur lay there as Erebor’s fire bells began to toll. The smoke was filling the airshafts for most of the lower levels. He had spoken but only a croaked whisper had come out.

“Let’s get out of here!” Minos grabbed the body as two others got Bofur up and put his arms around their shoulders.

\----


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstandings are clear up on the part of Bilbo and Dain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's long, sappy, predictable, and complete. Enjoy! I was too afraid of what I'd come up with next to add to Bilbo's woes.

January 17, 2492 TA

Erebor, the King’s Chambers

“So I’ve four of the Miner’s Guild’s most experienced mine repair team leaders out of commission for a month.” Dain stood reading the report where Balin had caught him as he was leaving his rooms for the day. “I’ve Bofur, the only one able to keep the miners in line as I recall, in the healer halls for at least a month? Didn’t he just get released to inspect the mines?”

“Yes.” Balin felt old and worn. “This is my last report. They found Bilbo.”

Dain looked up with an almost panicked look as he snapped the report shut. “Is the hobbit dead?”

Balin allowed himself to look deeply offended. “No. The healers have treated him to the best of their ability. I only came here after he survived the night. I’ve sent a raven to the Elven King’s halls requesting they take him to continue his care.”

“Send for elven healers, fine, but the hobbit stays here.” Dain’s face showed his temper would explode if any opposed him. “You’ve read Gandalf’s instructions, Balin.”

“You told me that you didn’t want the hobbit to die in Erebor and pollute the mountain. I assumed that you wanted him gone to prevent that.” Balin stood firm, just as much a son of Durin as the king. “You didn’t want Bilbo; you wanted him gone as soon as spring came. I will escort him to Mirkwood and stay with him.”

“Thorin’s hobbit stays.” Dain saw pure devotion in Balin’s eyes. “Get those elven healers here; I don’t care if it’s a blizzard outside. Then cancel my plans for the day, I’ll be in the healer’s wing.”

“I’ll join you shortly.” Balin frowned, but nodded.

\----

“Bilbo has minor burns to the face, but they won’t scar. It’s the more serious burns on his hands and feet that worry me.” Oin stood by the bedside of the bandage swathed hobbit with Dain. “I doubt his foot hair will grow back, even if we keep infection out.”

“What isn’t damaged on the hobbit?” Dain hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the so small figure with the harsh breathing.

“What isn’t damaged? Ha!” Oin snorted angrily. “Bilbo also has Uremia. I’ve managed to round up a few things on Elrond’s list, but I’m glad that the elven healers are coming with the rest. Especially the strawberries; they will help fight any kidney inflammation. Dain, this hobbit has everything wrong inside and out.”

“What isn’t damaged? Has he woken up yet?” Dain repeated through gritted teeth. He had long ago learned to concentrate on what advantages he did have, and to turn disadvantage to advantage.

“His corneas aren’t burned. Bilbo is not blind; his eyes are just irritated as all get out, like Bofur. I also agree with you that Bilbo can’t be moved. The winter cold will kill him with his lungs. As to his waking up, it could be days. I’ll also let any healer that I don’t trust near him.” Oin looked ready to defend Bilbo with his life.

“I’ve posted two guards out front, two of Dwalin’s recruits; they apparently consider the hobbit a brother in arms.” Dain pulled a chair up, looking odd in his royal robes as he sat in a plain wooden chair.

“Why? You hate Bilbo. Your people consider him a traitor.” Oin looked ready to order out the presumptive king.

“I’ve never even seen the hobbit before, so I cannot say such words now, can I?” Dain wondered if every member of the Company would berate him.

Dwalin had demanded that he take his recruits and post a guard. Even Bofur had glared at him the entire time he was there to thank the dwarf. Bifur had come into his cousin’s room and physically pushed the king out with a few curses. Far from being a stranger to healer halls, Bifur was splitting his time in between both Bofur and Bilbo’s rooms.

\----

February 1, 2492 TA

Erebor, the Healer’s Halls

Dain didn’t know why, but he managed to visit the hobbit’s room each day. Sometimes it was for only a few minutes. Other times he was able to sit for a time and talk about his day, though Bilbo never stirred. All of the Company came and talked to “their hobbit”, though in Dain’s mind he was “Thorin’s hobbit”.

Dain only knew what he wanted to tell the hobbit. His council had had a fit, until Balin seconded his motion to expel any naysayers from Erebor permanently. Fortunately, Dori had been much more helpful in organizing Bilbo’s new rooms.

“Who are you?” The hoarse voice startled Dain out of his thoughts. He’d grown accustomed to the silence in this room.

“Thorin’s cousin, Dain.”

“Thorin isn’t waking up in the spring is he? Renewal of the world isn’t spring is it?”

“No.” Dain felt sick, suddenly understanding why this hobbit refused to leave. “Dwarves do not hibernate, Bilbo. Thorin was buried next to his nephews. We dwarves will help rebuild the world anew at the end of this one is what he meant.”

“I would have left with Gandalf if I knew. I didn’t want to be gone when Thorin woke. I guess that’s not a problem now.” Green eyes dragged over bandaged hands that he barely held up.

“I’m sorry about your foot hair.” Dain blurted out the first thing to come to mind. He felt ashamed, if that word was adequate, which it wasn’t. He had caused all of this suffering when he ordered the hobbit kept from the funeral, even when every member of the Company objected.

“Oin told me when I first woke. A hobbit’s foot hair is his pride. Well, I don’t have to worry about pride coming before my downfall, I suppose.” Bilbo wasn’t laughing. “He also said that I can leave for the Woodland Realm soon, so I’ll be gone long before April.”

“Balin told you what I said?” Dain barely met Bilbo’s look.

“Dwalin did. He was outraged, but I found the terms rather reasonable under the circumstances.” Bilbo actually shrugged.

“I would like to change the terms, Master Hobbit.” Dain forced himself to begin his rehearsed speech.

“It’s Bilbo, Dain, though anything is better than Halfling.”

Dain took in the cherry red face with its half healed blisters and the limbs cocooned in bandages. He looked at the face of one who was loyal to a fault. How could he have been so blind?

“I would like you to stay on as our Shire Ambassador. I’ve commissioned a hall of suites for a whole new group of ambassadors. I’ve sent out requests for trade to everyone that I can think of, but the Shire might be the best agricultural option.” Dain stopped and took in the shocked face.

“Your people consider me a traitor, Dain.”

“They will change their minds, believe me.” Dain would make this right. “You would have the most trusted guards at all times.”

“You want hobbits to hibernate here so that the men of Dale can farm the land.” Bilbo wasn’t buying any of this.

“Thorin died for Erebor. I’ll do whatever I can to make his kingdom succeed and thrive, Master Baggins. It’s never been my kingdom and it will always be Thorin’s, but I’ve been given the job whether I want it or not. Will you help me?”

“No. I want to go home when I’m well.” Bilbo turned his head towards the wall, dismissing any implied apologies or regrets.

“Then I will fail.” Dain stated simply. “Most of Thorin’s Company is planning on going back to the Blue Mountains. When they leave any chance that we had will fail. Erebor needs Durin’s Folk to return and now many won’t.”

“No.”

“Bilbo, please stay. Thorin is beyond recovering in the spring, but Erebor is not. Will you keep the promise that you made to him to Erebor?” Dain knew it was a foul play on words for a guilt trip; he also knew that what he said was the truth.

“For Thorin.” Bilbo nodded, closing his eyes to sleep.

“For Thorin.” Dain got up to leave. There was much to do, but it was a beginning.

_“For Bilbo.”_

Dain whirled around with a start, but the chair was empty. Though, for a moment he could have sworn that he saw Thorin sitting in it holding his hobbit’s hand.

“I’ll take care of your hobbit, cousin.” Now Dain left the room full of assurance. “Thorin’s hobbit” would heal and thrive, as would Erebor.

\----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope that you've enjoyed this side story. It's not my usual work: the writing and plot were a little lazy, but it's actually complete, unlike my other works. I also doubt that I'll put so much research into a piece ever again. Please forgive any factual errors.  
> Hibernation sources:  
> Western Wildlife Outreach – Black Bear Biology  
> North American Bear Center - Five Stages of Activity and Hibernation
> 
> Food sources:  
> Wikipedia List of Midde-earth food and drink  
> The Geeky Chef  
> thetolkienforum.com
> 
> Timeline source:  
> gary.appenzeller.net/TheHobbitChron.htm
> 
> Smoke inhalation source:  
> www.webmd.com
> 
> Uremia source:  
> www.healthgrades.com
> 
> Uremia food source:  
> www.sparkpeople.com


	15. Epilogue

May 2, 2492 TA

Erebor, Food Distribution Center #4

When the grand bell rang for the sixth time that day, Bilbo closed his ledger book with a weary sigh. Sliding off of his stool, he herded the line of waiting dwarves out of the Center.

“I’m sorry, everyone. It’s closing time. All of the food storehouses open again tomorrow precisely at first bell.” He took a deep breath before beginning his routine speech, carefully composed by Ori himself.

“There are seventeen food distribution centers located throughout Erebor. Before registering to get in line, please check your rations card to make certain that you are at your authorized center. If you cannot be given your rations by the sixth bell, please bring your line number along with your ration card tomorrow. You shall be given priority in getting a new line number until second bell.” It was a speech that Bilbo repeated at opening and closing. Thick skulled dwarves could not argue with a bland oratory repeated over and over. Bilbo also had other speeches prepared by Balin that he found the need to use nearly every day.

“I came at opening yesterday and today and still wasn’t far enough to the front of the line to get a new number.” One dame with a baby in a sling shook her fist with a number of line tickets crumpled up in it.

“All seventeen food centers follow the same standard operating procedures. Priority is given until second bell. If you wish to register for another food center you can apply at the central administrative office located in the Scribes’ Guild.” Bilbo had gotten only half of the dwarves to leave. His two guards had been on the standby list to respond to the almost weekly orc skirmishes attacking new caravans as settlers approached Erebor. Today had been such a day; but for the first time, their replacements were also on standby. Now he only had two dwarflings that helped to distribute food. He had already motioned them to leave.

“I just need a bit of meat and a loaf of bread.” A red haired dwarf with a beard full of braids was speaking through clenched teeth. “I’ve a pregnant wife and a young one waiting at home staring at a bare cupboard.”

“If I give out rations after sixth bell, this food center will be closed for several days as my books are audited. Please bring your line number along with your ration card tomorrow. You shall be given priority in getting a new line number until second bell. That is all that I can do.” Bilbo was dying for a cup of calming tea to soothe both his throat and nerves.

The dwarf looked at the shelves full of food, locked behind a wire fence, then at the key to the door hung on a chain around Bilbo’s neck.

“What if I help myself to what I need?” He pulled out a finely made, but still lethal knife.

Fili would have loved to have a closer look the craftsmanship of that blade, Bilbo thought idly. He sighed and gave yet another prepared speech given at least once every two days. “Theft of food or vandalism of any kind to the food center will result in its being permanently shut down. All registered families must then reapply for assignment to a new food center. Basically, if you take food, you’ll be in a line just to be able to get back in a food line.”

“I’m not waiting in any more lines.” Bilbo found the knife cozying up with his Adam’s apple.

“If I, as Shire ambassador, am harmed or killed, the Shire will immediately terminate any trade agreement or food donation already agreed to or in the process of being ratified. If Erebor doesn’t get Shire food then neither does Dale nor Laketown. This means that Erebor will get no more fish from the men. The Woodland Realm has already raised the price of meat that it supplies. They will not hesitate to raise it again if they are the only food supplier in the local area. The Iron Mountains started sending seeds and farm equipment instead of more food last month.”

The dwarf was unphased as he held Bilbo on his toes by the shirt. The hobbit merely watched the dwarf with serene eyes. “My spilled blood will not feed your family, good sir. We must all have patience, as even more families are coming to Erebor weekly.”

“The hobbit that faced a dragon. Bah! This weakling isn’t worth my time.” The dwarf threw Bilbo down. “Go home to your own fancy dinner, traitor.  Eat your six meals a day and remember me.”

Bilbo got up and dusted himself off. “It’s closing time. All of the food storehouses open again tomorrow precisely at first bell. There are seventeen food distribution centers located throughout Erebor. Before registering to get in line, please check your rations card to make certain that you are at your authorized center. If you cannot be given your rations by the sixth bell, please bring your line number along with your ration card tomorrow. You shall be given priority in getting a new line number until second bell.”

“Greedy hobbits.”

 “Traitor, watch your back.”

Slurs and threats rang out as the remaining dwarves began to file out.

“Is there a problem in here, Ambassador?” A pair of dwarves in the uniform of market security came in, their glares sending the last stragglers scurrying away.

“No.” Bilbo checked that the food center was tidy and no one was trying to hide inside before coming out and locking up. “Just the usual threats. I take it that the miners still haven’t been paid yet if they’re showing up with ration cards.”

“Lord Gloin sent out a warning to our home post. Negotiations for a new budget are still ongoing.” One guard with dark hair to match his dark look circled Bilbo, frowning when he saw the hobbit’s neck. “Cut yourself shaving yet again, Ambassador?”

“Once again I’ve found myself to be rather clumsy.” And a liar; Bilbo knew that they all knew that he never shaved his nonexistent beard. He dabbed at the bead of blood, and then put the handkerchief away. Bloodstains were such a bother that he daily put up with.

“The dwarves in line behaved, yes?” The other dwarf, younger, also with red hair was not so easily silenced. “Your helper, Dareth, was hollering that you were being murdered.”

“The food centers are just overcrowded. The new Shire ambassador should be here next month. They will be bringing more hobbits with them to help open more centers. I’m getting too old to be sitting on a stool all day.” Bilbo chuckled and stretched his back.

“You’ll not be staying then?” It was apparent that the first guard wasn’t fond of the idea of more hobbits in a dwarven mountain, but the Thain had insisted that hobbits oversee their very generous food donations. Dain had brooked no argument to that, but the hobbits were delayed due to the problem of most hobbits with the needed skills weren’t about to leave the Shire.

“Londin Boffin is the new Shire Ambassador. He is a well-respected attorney who will be able to organize these food centers with much more efficiency, once the gaggle of Tooks that he is dragging along with him are settled. Any dwarf that messes with one Took messes with them all. Things will be just fine.” Bilbo rather pitied any short tempered dwarf who pulled a weapon. His arriving Took cousins would shove the dwarf’s ration card where the sun don’t shine.

“What of yourself, sir?” The second guard had grudgingly come to respect the tenacious hobbit as he lasted longer than any other food center supervisor. Most were scared off within the first week or injured within the first month. Bilbo was just glad that the job had kept him out of any treaty or trade negotiations. He much preferred to keep an orderly food center that actually fed families versus sitting in on negotiations that only argued about how to do it in theory.

“Myself?” Bilbo paused a moment; he hadn’t really had time to make plans beyond securing Bag End.

“Yes, yourself, Ambassador. Surely you will receive a hero’s welcome.” The dwarf was almost exasperated at Bilbo’s humbleness. Any dwarf worth their beard would be boasting of the feasts they would attend and the stories they would tell.

“I’ve been invited to the Thain’s home for supper when I return.” Bilbo looked down at his scarred feet, though he often tried not to. The ten toes wiggled decently, so he shrugged. “Then I will clean house, weed my garden, and find a fitting place to plant my acorn.” Here Bilbo’s throat closed up.

“I need to use careful consideration. Thorin himself told me to plant the acorn and watch it grow. I told him before that I would plant it and remember what happened and those that didn’t…” The last words didn’t make it out.

“Aye, Thorin’s hobbit will make a good decision where to plant Thorin’s tree.” Dwalin appeared from nowhere, dismissing the guards who had bowed heads in remembrance of the fallen king.

“I miss him.” Bilbo lost his staunch demeanor that never failed. He hid his face in Dwalin’s side as the dwarf wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“We all do, but you’ve done a fine job of helping Dain to help Erebor herself thrive. Thorin would be proud, Bilbo. No tears now.” Dwalin hated dealing with emotions, they were just messy. “Come. Balin insisted that I invite you to dinner. We know that you gave your meal card away again. Besides, my brother managed to get a dozen barrels of fish for some reason. You’ll have to cook up a few the way you did the night I ate your dinner.”

“We’ll bring the barrels here tomorrow morning?” Bilbo wiped his eyes as he looked eagerly up at Dwalin.

“Aye, first thing. I’ve got a dozen barrels of fish stinking up my kitchen.” Dwalin’s rare smile made the hobbit give a now rare smile. It heartened the warrior to see it. All of the Company had worried about the withdrawn and silent hobbit during his recovery.

“How is recruit training going? Did Antin break another war hammer?” Bilbo let Dwalin lead him away. Life wasn’t easy in the recovering mountain, as it wouldn’t be easy to return to the Shire; but it wasn’t unbearable either. A content hobbit would return to the Shire to let its peace and beauty make him a happy hobbit one day, just as Thorin had wanted.

“That boy! Let me tell you…”


End file.
